by David Gittlin

Created on: May 02, 2009

The Millennium Predictions

Seagulls falling out of the sky raised a line of puffs on the barren beach. The birds made no sound as they thwacked into the sand.

Darren glanced upward, shielding his eyes from the blazing sun. Nikki, lying on the pink towel next to him, rose on both elbows. She screamed.

More birds pelted the beach. A few hundred yards to the south, it was raining seagulls.

"It's coming this way," he told the hazel-eyed beauty.

Darren grabbed her hand. He watched more birds fall farther inland, as if an invisible cloud were spreading towards the tawny row of high-rise hotels and condominiums facing Miami Beach.

"Head for the water. It's the only safe place," he shouted.

They raced towards the incoming tide, extending their long, lean bodies over the surf. The couple pummeled the aqua water with furious crawl strokes, side by side. When they were far enough from shore, Darren pulled up, treading water. Nikki's head broke water just as a wave rolled over her. She came up coughing and spitting water. Darren reached out. She flattened her curvaceous body against his hard torso, encircling his neck with long, slender arms.

Thunder rumbled. The waves grew higher. Darren watched in disbelief as the storm of falling seagulls engulfed the Canyon Ranch Spa and Hotel.

"The Millennium Predictions' are coming true," Nikki gasped.

The seagull storm swallowed up the hotel. The bird-cloud mushroomed towards the sleek concrete and steel skyscraper to the north. The sky darkened. A squall rippled towards them from the macabre scene unfolding on the shore.

Darren held her tightly. "I'll always love you, even if the world ends."

Nikki pushed away from him with a wild-eyed expression.

"Cut," the Director yelled from the filming platform six feet behind them.

The computer-generated effects Darren had spent hours studying the night before dissolved on the screen of his imagination. The newly built Canyon Ranch Hotel gleamed in the South Florida sun, perfectly safe as a dreamer waking from a nightmare in a comfortable bed.

He had been lost in the moment. He had made it all real. Instinct and a script two revisions old had taken over.

Darren smacked his head with an open hand. "Sorry."

"You're supposed to say, I thought we could change the future," the pot-bellied, bearded Director said. He pulled off his black sunglasses and glared at Darren. A gust of wind rustled his mane of graying hair. "Let's take it from Nikki's last line, then we'll break for lunch."

"Soften your expression,"

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